The Blushing Dahlia
by Greened Ink
Summary: "You have a chance, a narrow one, I'll grant you, but still- a chance to get her back." Red John. A dark little Jane/Lisbon piece. A bit OC. Post Jane's memory loss and retrieval. Rated for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note- If I knew where this came from, I could have stopped myself. Maybe it's my fluffy AU fic, but... oh well.

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think.

Lisbon carefully didn't look at anyone but Van Pelt. It couldn't be what they were all suspecting, right? Jane wouldn't have done this, it couldn't have been him. Could it?

"I've always wanted a couch like that."

Lisbon glanced at the light leather couch off against the wall, where she still expected to see Jane's figure laying out across it while he pondered. Then she looked back at him, the old him. No- the _ancient_ him- as he strolled into the bull pen. Or, more precisely she was looking at the brunette in red attached to his arm. "Who's this?" Another level of hell for her to deal with?

"Oh, this is my 'responsible adult', Tamera."

"Oh, Ta_'mara'_." The woman corrected his pronunciation with a scolding little smile.

Jane's answering chuckle was like a kid who'd gotten his hand trapped in the cookie jar. Slightly embarrassed, yes, but more like he was just wondering how badly he was going to get in trouble and how cute he needed to be to get out of it.

Ta_'mara'_ just echoed his laugh a little and smiled at her nervously. "Hi."

Lisbon tried to hold back a snort and faked a bit of a smile. "Hi." It wasn't her fault that her tone came out condescending. Come on, Jane couldn't even remember the woman's name properly! Did she really have to talk to this lady? This woman who didn't know a thing about what she had just walked into? All she wanted to do was talk to Jane, her Jane, but that man was gone. And this Jane- well, this Jane was leaving. And she was letting him. She swallowed reflexively. "Well, you did it."

Jane raised one eyebrow at her quizzically.

"You caught a killer and we got back most of the stolen cash." She elaborated.

"Most?"

"Wilcox is missing some of the money." The first plant, to check his reaction. Just like Jane had taught her. "He said you took it, but- he must have hidden it." She didn't like his lack of reaction at all. It wouldn't have been more telling if he had made a sudden run for it. But it- it couldn't be. He may not have his memory, but he was still Jane somewhere inside there- right?

"Hm," Jane harrumphed. "I'd look for an accomplice. That's a big job to pull off alone."

Oh, god. No. She thought she was going to be a little sick.

If there was one good thing about this situation, it was that Jane had forgotten all the old tricks that wouldn't work on her anymore. As someone who had worked alongside the real Jane for years, it was child's play to read him right now. And right now, she didn't believe him for one minute. He was lying, covering something. But it couldn't be what they suspected. Not Jane.

She did her best to plaster on a good-natured acceptance. "We'll do that." The real Jane would have seen through her to the snarl that statement really was in a second. "Oh, by the way-" She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She was doing this. She really was. She was letting him go. It was what was best for him. "Your last pay check." Could she help it if she wished desperately that he wouldn't accept it? That there was some part of her Jane left in there?

But Jane did take it and unfolded the wrinkled note. He did a little pull back. "That's my payment?" He asked in quiet disbelief.

"You weren't exactly in it for the money." She couldn't help but smile at the memory of Jane- the real Jane- and his dismissal of wealth. It was a happy memory marred by the farce standing in front of her.

"Well, I'll confess to a vague satisfaction in taking down someone that thought they were smarter than me. But not enough to want to stick around here. Certainly not for this." He waved the check her way with a smile.

Two could play at this. "Alright, well, let me know if you change your mind or, you know, get it back." It maybe was a bit of a petty jab, but not one that she was above delivering apparently.

"Some doors are best left shut." He said with a twinkle in his eye.

Carefully, she swallowed. Yes, maybe they were. She was letting him go so that those painful doors would stay shut. She could do this- for him. After all, who was she to stand in the way of his happiness? Anything that got him out of that hell, she supposed she could live with. But-

She paused. How did he know that? Did he just- Was that his memory surfacing? Why else would he be so reluctant? She knew him well enough to know when he was shying away from something.

"Everyone else, I'd just like to say 'thank you'." Jane stepped forward a little so he could address the entire bull pen, but Lisbon was still focused on the woman's arm where the glint of something expensive had caught her eye. "I'm sure we've shared some-" He looked at Van Pelt and then to the rest of the team. "-great times. I'm not presently qualified to comment-"

She shared a look with the red head at that comment and then looked back at Jane. He was just performing. He had no idea what he was talking about.

"-so I'm just gonna make like a rock- and roll." He held out his elbow for Tamara to take.

The woman smiled and waved a little at Van Pelt. "Bye."

Lisbon saw Van Pelt eyes zero in on the bracelet in confusion and her heart seized up a little. So it wasn't just her. Did Van Pelt see it too? "Wait." It was frail, but it stopped Jane nonetheless. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the glitter of actual diamonds. "That looks real."

"Sure does." Van Pelt agreed with a scowled frown.

The woman grinned and kissed him unexpectedly. "_You_-" She raised a finger to point at him, "-weren't lying."

So it was true. He had bought her the diamond bracelet. _Real_ diamonds, for this... trollop? And there could have only been one way he got the money for it. Something inside her broke at the knowledge, while she stared at him in disbelief. "You took it." Jane didn't look at her, didn't meet her eyes and if she couldn't figure out that that was a confirmation, she had no right to call herself the 'real' Patrick Jane's friend. "Wilcox wasn't lying, you really took it."

Finally he looked at her, but the damage was done. He had taken the money and lied to them about it. "I'm sure I've no idea what you're talking about. I'm late for my new life." Jane took Tamara's arm and started to walk away.

Cho didn't even have to leave his seat. "When'd you grab the cash?"

"Oh please, does it really matter? I mean you people are the highway robbers. Look at this pay check!"

She wasn't paying attention to him anymore. She was still trying to wrap her head around this. Jane had taken the money- that was clear. And the rest of this was an act? No, no quite. Even if this was meant to be an act, it was all too real.

"We could have you arrested for grand theft." Van Pelt said incredulously.

"There's not a jury in the world that would convict me."

No. There had to be a reason. Jane had said that people's core personalities don't change, not even when they were hypnotized. So... why would Jane take the money? Logically, it would be because he didn't have any. So why would he _need_ the money?

"I'm out of my mind! Ask my doctor." Jane was ranting now and she wasn't fooled by the show for a minute. There was something he didn't want them to see.

She blinked, staring at Jane as a painful emotion swept through her. Everything snapped into place. He was forcing them, forcing _her_, into revealing what they had been keeping from him. What she was so reluctant to tell him. Only... a part of him was hoping they wouldn't. Which meant a part of him was beginning to feel what he might be forcing them into telling him. What he might remember. He wasn't just shying away-

"You're running away."

He looked at her, but she could tell he wasn't confused. He was scared. "What are you talking about?"

"You're starting to feel something inside and you don't know what to do with it."

Barely an eye flickered. "That's nonsense."

He was going to do this, he was going to make her tell him in order to keep him. He was scared, so he would make her do it. Force her to force him.

There was nothing else for it. If he was remembering, if it was really coming back, she couldn't let him go. He couldn't be alone when he remembered something like this, certainly not with this woman that didn't know anything about what had happened. She had to do something.

And the only thing she could think of was going to give her nightmares.

She swallowed down the urge to tear up and squared her shoulders for what he was asking of her. "Prove it. Take a ride with me, if you still want to leave after that, you can."

He stared at her, knowing he had won- and probably wishing that he hadn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think.

It was dark by the time they arrived.

The two story house gave off an aura of abandonment. Shadowed and lifeless. Like a ghost. She repressed a shiver as best she could, while Jane climbed out immediately. It took her a moment to get her numb fingers to follow suit.

"Great house." Jane commented, coming around the back of the van.

She started slowly up the steps, limbs heavy and hard to move. She just had to keep telling herself that this was necessary. That it had to be done.

"Who's is it?"

Lisbon looked back at him. "It's yours. Give me your keys." She needed to get this over with, before she lost her resolve.

"Okay." Jane handed over the whole set.

She looked at his eyes, seeing a flicker of something within them, but all she could discern was that it wasn't enough. Seeing the house wasn't enough to make him remember. She pushed down the desire to be ill and unlocked the door. When she glanced at him, he was smiling a little. Perhaps because he had seen the small tricycle in the window. Maybe the good memories were filtering back. Or maybe he was just impressed by his own wealth.

It was quiet and still inside, a layer of dust over every surface. The long, dark shadows made the place not scarier, but somehow more haunting and sad. A thin puff went up at each of her footsteps as she led the way to the stairs and up.

The stairwell was cramped and foreboding, making it harder and harder to trudge all the way to the top. When they got to the landing, she stopped. She couldn't go any further. The rest of it wasn't for her, it belonged to Jane. She was feeling the settling guilt of bringing him this far.

Oh god, what was she doing?

Their eyes met, hers reluctant, and then her gaze flickered to the door, wary even as she silently showed him what they were here for. Where he needed to go. She knew the way. She knew it all. Her eyes followed him as he approached the door, steps steady but just as wary as she felt.

He stopped in front of the door and looked back at her.

She just stared back, trying to silently let him know that she was here. She knew what was awaiting them- awaiting him- on the other side. And she knew she couldn't save him from it. She couldn't do this for him.

He turned back and slowly opened the door. Then stood unmoving.

She didn't think he was even breathing. She stood watching him, just watching. Ready for anything he needed. If he needed to scream, if he needed to cry, anything. Or at least, she had thought so.

But there was only silence.

It seemed all the more horrible that way.

Jane wavered a little on his feet, as though the world had just been rocked off it's axis. His world.

She swallowed again as Jane finally tilted his head.

He looked down so he could look at her without really looking at her. Silently asking why to someone he knew couldn't answer. To a world that had no reply.

She breathed, even though her throat felt like it was closing shut. She spoke, even though she knew it would never be enough. "I'm sorry." It was an apology as much as a condolence. She hadn't wanted it to be her that had to tear this innocent happiness away from him. In fact, she would have done just about anything for this not to be her responsibility at all. But he was her friend. He was one of the most important people in her life, she had been through enough in the past few days to admit that.

If Red John was ever going to be stopped, she couldn't let Jane give up the reason he was chasing the serial killer. This was for Jane, it wasn't to catch Red John, but... well, he would never have forgiven her if she let him walk away from his self-imposed mission.

She wished this moment hadn't come. She wished they had no reason to be here. But then, she wished a lot of things. So she stood silent and still as he continued trying to stay upright, clutching the door's knob and frame in a desperate way. There was no reason for her to speak further. She knew that he remembered.

He remembered everything.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think. So it's obviously not.

Blinking away her exhaustion, Lisbon tried to concentrate on the road. It was a dark night, one that seemed to smother the landscape in it's shadows. Practically alone, with only the occasional semi she had to pass around on the highway, it was getting harder and harder to keep herself awake. She hadn't really slept much since the night before she had found Jane floating face up in the water, unbreathing.

Who could sleep with that kind of image in their head?

Beside her, slumped in the large passenger seat, Jane murmured.

She glanced at him, not quite sure if he was awake or asleep. Not that there was much of a difference right now. He hadn't said a word since they'd left, not even a token one of protest when she had finally pulled him away, shut the door, and led him back to her car. It was like handling a robot, or a sleepy child. They stepped where you said step, moved when you said move, but otherwise their eyes remained vacant, their thought processes vanished.

He was the shell that she had first met again.

Checking her mirrors, she switched lanes to pass another semi, trying to ignore the roar that filled the inner spaces of her SUV as they passed the large, double-wheels. All she could do was hope the sound didn't disturb her companion even if he wasn't asleep. Normally, passing any big vehicles never gave her pause, but for some reason, she felt like she had precious cargo she needed to be extra careful with. Maybe Jane had turned to glass, and if she so much as coughed he would shatter into hundreds-of-thousands of little pieces. The scary part about that analogy, was that she wasn't entirely convinced he wouldn't.

Slowly, she pulled back into the right lane in front of the truck and adjusted in her seat to stave off the fatigue clawing at her eyelids. Another glance at Jane showed that the man hadn't even stirred. Maybe she was overreacting. After all, Jane had shown remarkable fortitude in pulling himself out of this exact situation before. He had to be tougher than she was probably giving him credit for.

Still, when she had to swerve just a little to avoid something in the road and Jane slipped sideways, she was gentle as she pushed him back up one-handed and tucked his head down some to keep him there. So what if he wasn't asleep- he still needed to be taken care of right now, since he hadn't yet made a single move on his own. She shook her head at her mother henning and pressed a bit harder on the gas.

There was nothing else she could do once they got back to Sacramento. No where else to go. His apartment was not a good idea. She didn't feel comfortable leaving him there alone and frankly, the place sucked. Taking him to her place would have been too familiar right now, for both of them, though she would have gladly given up her bed for the night.

The CBI offices were dark and foreboding at night, without even the normal noises one might hear in a house. There was a stillness about the building she sometimes found comforting when she had to work late. Tonight, it just make the echoes louder, the chatter of the blinds as she pushed open the door to her office more jarring. She was leading Jane by the hand, holding softly but firmly to his fingers and he was following like a lost little lamb, eyes still focused too far away at things and memories and places she couldn't see.

He was scaring her- something she was usually proud to admit was hard to do and he'd been doing it a lot lately.

When his legs were positioned before the seat, she pushed down and got him to sit. Then she slowly tilted his shoulders, bent his head and he obediently laid down. She gathered his legs and helped lift them up onto the cushions, finally pulling a throw blanket over him and tucking it close. Though it was hard, she resisted the urge to run her hand through his hair like she used to do with her youngest brother when she had tucked him in. Instead, she straightened back up and looked him up and down.

At least it was a comfortable couch.

Her charge safely ensconced in a cocoon-like bundle on her couch, she made her way over to her desk, dropped the keys beside the phone and sat heavily.

What a long night.

Checking the clock, she groaned quietly. It was morning already. On a normal day, she would just be waking up. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to dispel the hazy fog that had taken up residence in her left field of vision, and yawned. God, she could use some coffee. Heaving herself out of her chair, she made her way to the break room.

While the coffee pot percolated, she leaned against a counter and stared off into space, not looking at anything and too exhausted to think. It wasn't till something made a soft pinging sound that she was startled out of her reverie. She took her cell out of her pocket and checked it.

Of course.

The coffee was hot and steaming, so clutching a cup between her hands warmed her against the chill in the office air. She sipped it, already feeling the weight lift from her head like a cloud dissipating in the predawn light just now filtering in through the tops of the windows. Though she wasn't used to having to be quiet in her own work space, she did a fair job of it as she gathered up her things, stowed her keys in her pocket, pulled the blinds closed and switched off the small lamp. Holding her coffee, she glanced back at Jane on her couch.

He needed sleep, or time- or both.

She left without waking him, pulling her cell back out and calling up the team.

They had a murder to solve and they would just have to do it without Jane this time.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note- Wow, thanks so much for the alerts, favorites and especially the reviews to this story. I'm gratified to know I have managed to peak your interest. I hope this chapter comes across the way I meant it to.

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think. So it's obviously not.

The red was dark now, almost brown like the caked earth on which it was spilled. It puddled in places, a sticky glom that sent a putrid stench up into the air as it slowly decayed. Speckles of it had been splattered over pale skin, once hale and healthy peach now a disturbing white. Limbs bloodless and still. The young woman was laying on her side, legs only slightly splayed away from one another, bottom foot pointed.

She almost looked like she was dancing.

One arm curled over her chest to her other shoulder. The other was jutting in a straight line under her head, pillowing it gently. The dark blood had made a trail down her arm at some point, though the ground beneath the limb was strangely devoid of all but a single droplet beneath her middle finger.

Irises a faded brown that once might have been startling, she was staring sightlessly up into the sky, almost as if she had been telling the heavens she was on her way. Her head was framed by a halo of raggedly chopped hair, all too short for the hair tie around one of her wrists.

Not far away, a gloved hand removed a clot of dark brown hair from one of the bloody pools and placed it gently in a red-banded evidence bag. Like the tech was handling porcelain. It was clear the hair belonged to the victim, but nothing could be overlooked.

Lisbon crouched close to the woman's torso, surveying the body with a face forced into impassiveness. Only a slight furrow near the top of her nose gave her away once the smell wafted over. For a long moment, she said nothing. Just stared.

The body had been split, cut almost completely in half right at the line of the very last rib save only for a portion of skin and spine at her back that was still attached. Insides, from intestines to the spleen, were spread out in the gap between halves, open to the air and elements. It was as though she had been stabbed and the killer had just kept going even after she had finally drawn her last breath.

Like she was a piece of meat, rather than a crying, screaming, clawing human being.

It was the tear tracks still discernible down the woman's face that tugged at her. Drawing away, Lisbon couldn't help but smear the back of her wrist over the skin underneath her nose. Even she wasn't immune to the odor of death and decay, however much she sometimes wished she was.

"Group of kids found the body. Apparently they cut across here on the early morning run for school training." Cho said, mouth just barely twisted as he stood over the wreck of a body splayed on the ground.

Lisbon breathed out, resisting the urge to rub at her forehead. She had a headache, whether from stress or from lack of sleep was unclear, but it didn't seem like it would going away for a while. Slowly, she walked a little further away from the victim. The buzzing from flies around the organs was making her teeth itch.

As she stepped back, Rigsby stepped closer.

"Victim's name is Joanna Lister, boss. L-I-S-T-E-R. The T's silent." He held up a wallet. "Her ID was just set right next to her body."

"Like it was meant to be found." Cho deadpanned close by, now watching one of the techs trying to sort hair from blood.

"The whole thing was posed." Lisbon said roughly, looking over the entire scene. "Body mutilated, left out in the open. ID right next to the body. The killer's asking for attention."

"Probably done this before." Cho added, looking at the spread viscera with a slightly deeper frown than he normally wore.

It was enough to proclaim to his colleagues that he was troubled by his pronouncement.

"Doubt anyone would do this on their first go." She agreed musingly. "Maybe he got tired of being ignored. Rigsby, check out the databases, make sure we haven't got other murders like this one laying around. Even small similarities could be telling."

Rigsby moved off quickly, seeming happy to leave the corpse behind.

"Cho, search of the victim's history. Find out if she has any family- right now before the media gets ahold of this and beats us to the punch. I don't want her loved ones finding out about all this-" She gestured at the entire scene- "-from reporters."

"On it." Cho started to hurry away.

"Hey-" Lisbon caught him. "-where's Van Pelt?"

"Interviewing the kids." He gestured back toward the road. "But a few of them were throwing up, so-"

"Yeah, okay." She waved him off, really not needing to hear any more. Her boots clomped loudly on the dirt as she strode for the break in the fence that would take her in the direction Cho had indicated, when something caught her eye. Slowing to a stop, she frowned toward it.

There was a small growth of weeds and tree-like bushes near the back side of the empty lot, near where it backed right up against the steep hill jutting up several feet into the air. On the other side, a uniform was standing on the edge of the underbrush, watching the entire scene like a soldier on guard. On her side of that same shrubbery, several branches on the tall bushes and stalks of weeds were bent awkwardly toward her.

What had caught her eye though, was a shiny metallic chip of something sticking out of the dirt. Her stomach fluttered slightly, while her heart seemed to putter, like it was going to stop. It brought on a heavy weight to her chest and a tingle in her limbs she recognized as foreboding. She swallowed it down harshly, telling herself not to jump to conclusions, pushed her jacket back and placed her hand heavily on her gun. It made her feel safer, despite the fact that she knew the crime scene had already been secured and there was no danger about.

...still.

Cautiously, she stepped toward the anomaly. She slid her feet through the dirt so that she was ready to run at a moment's notice, sidling nearer without taking her periphery off the concealing brush. As she got close, her feet kicking up ever smaller puffs of dirt and dust as the caked earth gave way to more damp soil, she could make out brown smudges on the bent vegetation.

Dried blood.

Lisbon stopped just before the metal glitter, scanning the brush. Then she carefully kicked the metal gently with her foot. It surfaced from being half-buried in the dirt, revealing its etched face to the sunlight.

A cross.

She looked back the way she had come.

The victims?

She didn't have another pair of gloves on her, so she left it where she'd found it and decided to continue following the trail of broken vegetation. Some ways back, hidden among the tall bushes, was an actual tree, if a small one. Once she reached it, her trail was gone, completely and without a trace. She looked around, turning in a small circle. Then her eyes focused on the bark of the tree where a piece had come loose and she slowly followed the trunk upward.

Her gun was out before her next breath and she looked around furtively as she pulled her phone out with her other hand and hit the speed-dial.

On a branch directly above her head, high up, was a piece of what could only be the victims skin. And painted on it's surface in dried blood, was a face.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note- This part morphed into two chapters. So, I'll polish the other one up and post it tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. And this changes to Jane's point of view for a while. Enjoy.

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think. So it's obviously not.

Disparate images of half-remembered nightmares, memories, and fantasies flitted briefly through his mind in a confusing, heart-hammering dream.

Jane stirred.

The first thing he became aware of was that his heart was beating too fast. It's crescendoing tempo was making his chest ache like someone was trying to pry it open with pliers. He needed to calm down before he had a heart attack. He could already feeling his arm aching too. Not that the position that he was in was helping. He was laying on something, face down, with one arm curled under him. Laying on said arm was not a wise decision, he could already tell.

Slowly, still mired in sleep, he moved his arm out from under him. It tingled painfully as the feeling started to return. Trying to hide from the world outside his head for a bit longer, he turned his head into the fabric beneath his face and burrowed a little deeper into it. An odd mixture of his and someone elses scent filled his nose. He had to try and clear his thoughts before he recognized it as Lisbon's and breathed a little deeper. The whole process forced his eyes to crack open reflexively.

Where was he? What day was it? He didn't know when he had fallen asleep, or even how really. In fact, everything was a little fuzzy. As he searched his memory, it felt like he was trying to see through thick cotton, stuff that billowed up around his memories to hide them when he tried to think too hard. All he could remember was- a dark wood. Lots of water. Maybe Lisbon's tears, or perhaps he had imagined that. Then...

Turning his head again, he worked his mouth with his tongue to try and moisten it. God, he felt like he had a hangover. The worst hangover of all time. His head was pounding, he felt dehydrated and was discovering that every single bit of him ached, not just his chest. Maybe he had been hit by a bus at some point. He closed his eyes briefly as he shifted and then squinted them open again as he slowly pushed himself up. He swung his legs over the edge near him, pushed the blanket around his shoulders away, and held his head near his knees till the room stopped spinning. Once it had, he looked around.

Why was he in Lisbon's office? More importantly, why was he laying out on Lisbon's couch, in her office, feeling like death warmed-over? There was a glass of water not far in front of him, with two tablets beside it. A note lay just beside that, hastily scrawled in Lisbon's script. With difficulty, he rubbed at his face, blinked rapidly and focused enough to see the words.

_'Doctor said you might have a massive headache. Take these and drink __all__ of the water. You've got the day, so make yourself some tea and try not to over-think anything. I'll be back soon to check on you. Lisbon'_

Thoughtful of her. Jane did as she instructed, greedily pouring the whole glass of water down his throat after the pills before the words caught up to his brain. He pulled back and looked at it again.

Doctor?

He touched his head, remembering nothing of the sort, which was unusual for him. Normally, he couldn't help but remember things other people seemed able to easily forget. Had he suffered a head injury? It certainly would explain why his brain felt like it was on fire, but when he felt around his skull, his probing fingers didn't encountered a single abnormality. Not a gash or a goose egg. Not so much as a sore spot- nothing but his blonde curls. His scraggly blonde curls.

He looked around blearily. How terrible did he look right now? Sighing, he cynically wondered how vain he had to be to even care about that right now. It didn't stop him from wondering, but he felt better for questioning himself. Especially since he had the very real problem of worrying about the fact that he had no idea how he had gotten back from the woods- which was the dark setting for his last clear memory. He stood shakily, thinking he would follow Lisbon's advice and get himself some tea. As his headache stabbed him in the temple, he wondered if her other advice not to over-think things was sound as well.

The closed blinds clattered as he opened the door and instantly pulled back, squinting.

When had the world caught on fire? Shaking his head, he slunk out through the gap. He hadn't realized just how dim it was in Lisbon's office. In the hall, the sun was coming in brightly through all the windows and glass walls, proclaiming the afternoon louder than a trumpet call. As he walked slowly by, he peeked in and saw that the bullpen was completely deserted. Where was everyone?

Once in the break room, he set the tea kettle on the heat and turned to lean against the counter to wait. Shaking slightly, he rubbed at his forehead. What had happened in the woods? Had he been hurt? That seemed an obvious answer, but if he had been injured, why had he woken up alone? Though it was probably selfish of him, he couldn't imagine that Lisbon would have just stepped out while he was asleep. Not if he was hurt badly enough to lose his memory. She wasn't the type. She was more the- staying next to the bed till you woke up and were okay, then vanishing- type.

Or couch, as it were.

He winced as his thoughts made his head burn even worse, but pushed through mulishly. He needed answers. _The facts, come up with the facts._ Lisbon was gone. The team was gone. He had been asleep on Lisbon's couch, not his own. That made him pause. The only thing that explained that was either she had wanted him close, or he had wanted to be close to _her_. She _had_ mentioned a doctor. Maybe she was the one who had been hurt? That sent a chill down his spine that made him straighten up. Dammit, where was she?

The kettle whistled in that moment, startling him out of his musings. For a few moments, he pushed his troubling thoughts away and concentrated on making himself a cup of tea. As he walked back to Lisbon's office, saucer and cup in hand, he tried to focus back on his train of thought. If he had been hurt, what would make Lisbon leave him here? What would compel her to do something so out of character? And where might the team have gone without telling him if he was out of it? He stopped in his tracks as the answer flooded through him, truly like a light turned on in the darkness.

A case.

They must have gotten a case while he was asleep. For no other reason would the woman have left him behind. Especially lately, since she had taken to pulling and pushing him to and from each scene, trying to get him to focus on something besides Red John. So, not wanting to wake him for some reason, Lisbon had left him behind. He reached into his pocket and searched for his cell, intending to call her and get some answers, but all he found was a piece of paper. Where the hell was it? In fact, where were his keys, or anything he usually carried with him? All he had was...

He looked at the paper. It was a crumpled check. His CBI check. Unconsciously, his face scrunched up in confusion. Checking his other pockets with his one hand, he found only one other thing. He pulled a velvet box slowly from his pocket. Checking it, he wondered what reason he could possibly have had for carrying around diamond earrings. Shaking his head, he slipped back into Lisbon's office and looked around. Setting his tea beside his empty glass, he opened up the blinds and let the light flood the room to illuminate it.

He was startled enough to almost lose his balance when a loud buzzing filled the room and blinked around him. His cellphone. It must be in here somewhere. A small memory tugged at him, and he realized it must have been the thing going off that woke him in the first place. He just hadn't realized it at the time. Searching the couch, he found nothing. Listening carefully, he followed the sound to Lisbon's desk and pulled open a drawer. There, sitting on a pile of papers, were his phone, wallet, and keys. He immediately took up his phone and pulled it open, barely glancing at the ID, because he had a pretty good idea of who was calling him.

"Lisbon." He breathed, dropping into her chair heavily.

"God, Jane- don't scare me like that! I thought something _else_ had happened to you!"

Something else? He pulled the phone away from his ear briefly to look at it. It sounded like she was exasperated with him, but he didn't know why. He put back to the side of his head.

"When I call, you answer. I don't care how out of it you are. Understand?"

Immediately, her tone made him sit up, putting on his best pouting tone."Me? What about you? I wake up here without any idea what the hell's going on- what happened last night?"

"I brought you back to the office, what else was I going to do with you?" Lisbon growled back. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Why? Was I hurt?" He sat forward on the edge of the seat. "Were you?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a very long time. It was worrying him by the time she finally broke it. "Jane... where are you?"

"In your office, where I assume you left me." He answered testily. "What's going on? What happened in the woods? Did we catch the murderer so quickly? Cause if so, I'm even better than I thought." His tone was teasing, but the fact that she hadn't answered him yet was unsettling him.

"The woods." It came across as a whisper of sound over the line that he could barely make out. "Jane, what's the last thing you remember?"

He frowned. "The case, of course. We were looking over the body in the woods. The man whose throat was slit. You said something. It all gets a little fuzzy after that. I assume we caught the guy and solved the case or you wouldn't be off on a new one, especially without me."

"How did you... never mind, don't answer that." Lisbon backtracked quickly.

"What happened?" He was getting impatient now. More silence greeted him and Jane almost barked at her. "Lisbon!"

There was a hissed curse on the other side. "Look, Jane, you... you were hurt, yes. Almost killed, but we got you out in time. That case- it was almost three days ago."

He started in surprise. Three days? He had lost three days?

"Maybe I should have taken you back to the hospital after- last night. I should have realized, with all that's happened... hell, the doctor even said this might happen." A voice spoke close to the phone and there was a rustling, as though Lisbon were moving. "Look, I can't talk right now. Just... just stay in my office till I get back there, okay?"

"Lisbon, how often has that worked?" He asked dryly. "You got a case. Now you're worried and not just because you left me here in your office alone." He heard another voice shout. It sounded like Cho barking orders to someone. He sounded anxious, or at least anxious for him. "Come on Teresa, what's going on?" He finally pleaded quietly.

"I... I only wanted to make sure you were safe." She sounded resigned and yet, still worried.

What she said made him stop, frown deepening. Safe? Slowly, he sat forward. "Lisbon-"

"It's nothing, just-"

"Lisbon."

Another long pause stretched between them, but he let it, waited for her to give, because he knew she would.

_Don't let it be that. Not that._

Lisbon's response was soft. "You better come see this."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note- This came out a little different than I intended. Still, I'm not dissatisfied enough with it to scrap it, so...

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think. So it's obviously not.

Jane watched the techs above him carefully removing the patch of marked skin from one of the branches above his head, eyes narrowed against the harsh afternoon sunlight. Trying to think past the headache niggling at the back of his skull was making him nauseous.

The mangled flesh taken from the victim's back made no sense. The placement too, was completely off. Red John put his own signature center-stage, always, not hidden away to be found after the spectacle that had been made of the body. His kills were more personal, more frightening in a sense. His presentation of his kill was personal too.

This was just... brutal. Savage. The inherent rage was center-stage and the body was posed to taunt. It wasn't so much a presentation as a pandering for attention. None of it made sense.

Besides all that too, it wasn't Red John's red, smiling face painted on the flesh.

"Is it supposed to be some sort of copycat?" Van Pelt asked from behind him, not sounding convinced of that herself.

"Can't be." Rigsby commented. "Not with the smile switched out for a frown. The killer had to know we'd figure it wasn't Red John."

"A copycat would have used Red John's sign exactly." Cho spoke. "And it would be red blood, not black... stuff, so as to make it obvious. Like Red John does."

"Agreed." Lisbon said, so close to Jane's shoulder, he could feel it as she shifted to look back at the others. "No copycat would have made it this obvious that they were a separate entity."

"So... Why the face at all?" Van Pelt asked. "I mean, there's isn't anyone in California who hasn't heard of Red John and his smiling faces painted in the victims blood. This couldn't have been unintentional."

"Not with the way he made us search for it." Lisbon commented. "He definitely put it there for a reason."

"He's paying homage." He murmured quietly toward the tree.

"What?"

Jane turned toward the team, seeing them watching him, but moved too fast so that he wobbled a little, his headache surging uncomfortably.

Lisbon caught his arm to steady him and held on even once he had regained his balance.

He didn't pull away from her like he normally might have. Instead, he leaned into her a little. "It's a disciple. It has to be. It's the only thing that explains why the sign was altered _and _hidden. The killer wanted his own spotlight, to show off his kill- his superiority. He wanted to be recognized. But he also to needed to show who he was working for. His _'master'_." He sneered the last word.

"Why?" Cho asked.

"To send us a message. We were meant to find it after we appreciated his work."

"Sick bastard." Rigsby grimaced at the piece of flesh as it went past. "What's the message, do you think?"

"Probably Red John's way of telling us he's involved so we better sit up and pay attention." Lisbon growled.

"Which might mean he sent this guy for a specific reason." Jane huffed. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, trying to rub away the stiffness.

Lisbon motioned to an officer and took a bottle of water handed over to her. She let go of his arm, took the cap off and handed it to Jane while she spoke. "Maybe it's to distract us. Which also means we can't let our guard down."

There were nods all around at that.

Jane took the proffered bottle, taking in a long pull from it. He could feel some of the pain recede with it's advent and sighed in relief. He bent at the waist, ducked his head and poured some on his neck so it ran into his hair. With a shake, he straightened again.

"I want this scene worked with a fine tooth comb." Lisbon ordered, speaking up so that even the officers around her would be able to hear. "Not a single, solitary piece of evidence can be missed or dismissed. If you even have a funny feeling, I want to know about it. Understand?"

There was a chorus of 'yes ma'am's' in response and the bustle reentered their surroundings. Techs collecting evidence, officers searching the brush.

In all the hubbub, Lisbon stepped close and gave orders to the team but Jane had already tuned her out. The water had helped with his headache, reaffirming his need to keep hydrated, but now he was being plagued with a sense of deja vu. It wracked his brain like an annoying tune stuck in his head. Something he was trying to remember. Maybe he had a concussion.

Perhaps that was why Lisbon looked like she had a halo around her as she turned back toward him. An glowing aura. Her black hair especially, looked like it was shining right now. He blinked. He'd never really realized how much he liked how silky it looked. He wanted to touch it and almost reached out his hand impulsively to do so. An odd feeling was saturating his insides, as though he had every right and reason to touch Lisbon and any part of her he wanted. He could almost feel himself touching another part of her on a whim, but fought it off. That was too unlike him. Lisbon wasn't really the touchable kind, and he respected her usual aversion to it because he often felt the same. So, why would he have been...

"Come on, Jane." Lisbon spoke near his ear.

He turned to her in surprise, noticing suddenly that the rest of the team was no longer around them. He must be more out of it than he had thought.

She took his arm gently but firmly. "We need to talk."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note- Two words. Hospitals. Suck. Thanks for your patience.

Disclaimer- If it were mine, this is what would have happened... I think. So it's obviously not.

Carefully, Lisbon guided Jane by the arm to her SUV which was parked outside the crime scene tape. With one hand, she pulled open the passenger side door, elbowing it open the rest of the way to keep it out of their way. She settled the other on his right shoulder, gently pushing down.

"I've got a headache." Jane mumbled, obediently sitting on the edge of the seat so that his feet still dangled outside the vehicle.

Once he was settled, she crouched slightly in front of him to be nearer to his eye level and peered closely up into his face. He was pale- almost ashen. It looked like he had just run a mile, something she knew Jane didn't do unless something or someone was chasing him. There was too much perspiration on his forehead to be explained away because of the bright sun though. His blonde curls were messier than normal and lacked their usual luster, as though he'd been running his fingers through it too much. Pain was etched in the corners of his down-turned lips, clearer to her than anything else in the world seemed like it could be. Honestly, he looked like a drunk who'd spent the night on a park bench. "You probably need to go back to the hospital." She murmured back at him quietly.

"You know I don't like doctors." He protested.

She crooked a tiny smile at his pathetic whine, if only because of the familiarity of it. At least he was talking again. "I know, but you're not even supposed to be out in the field right now and I'm not going to drag an invalid around with me if you're going to be passing out on me."

He suddenly looked down at her, eyes pleading.

She swallowed. They were like a morning sky- a weird combination of light green and blue.

"I won't, I promise. I need to be involved in this. I just need to get rid of this headache first."

Frowning, she glanced down at the water bottle in her hands, the same one he'd already drunk from. Taking the cap off again, she handed it back to him and watched him chug some more down.

He was so stubborn. Even a whiff of Red John set his ears up like a hound catching a snapping twig in the distance.

"You took the pills I left you?"

Finishing off the last of the water, he coughed a little, nodding his head.

"Well, it should be taking the edge off." She took the empty bottle back. "If it's not, something else could be wrong."

"Assuming it's not just another part of the first thing that went wrong." He mused, piercing eyes settling back on her face. "Only, I don't quite know what happened in the first place, do I?"

"There's time for that." Her hand pushed against her thigh, helping get her up to standing again despite the bottom dropping out of her stomach. "Right now, I'm more concerned with this headache, but I guess the hospital can wait till after we've made the initial interview. We need to hustle to beat the media's questions for the family there with our own."

He just nodded. Slowly, he pulled his legs into the car and seemed surprised when she helped him fold his limbs inside before closing the door.

Catching sight of a news truck not far away, she frowned, but she had enough to deal with. She came around the other side of her car and climbed in the drivers seat.

Jane looked at her, expression open and curious. So much like her brothers, it almost hurt. "You took a cab, right?" She grumbled, belting herself in.

"You told me to." He answered dryly. "Driving with this kind of a headache probably isn't a good idea, is it?"

Her lips pursed. "No, probably not." She started the car and started to pull out.

"So-" He began brightly. "-what'd I do?"

"Do?" Lisbon glanced at him with a small smile, heart stuttering a little. "What makes you think you did something?"

"I usually get myself into these messes. It makes sense." He looked out the window. "Besides, three days is a long time. I assume I wasn't in a coma, or I would have woken up in the hospital. So what happened?"

She hesitated, equal parts uncertain and uncomfortable. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him narrow his eyes at her.

"Start with the woods, Lisbon."

That just made her flinch like he had slapped her, unable to help her reaction. Damn, she hated those woods now.

"Wow, that can't be a good sign." He said conversationally.

Not able to think of an answer, she said nothing as they stopped at a red light.

"Teresa." He'd been watching her fidget.

She played with the turn signal for a minute longer before she looked back at him and met his eyes. "What's the last thing you remember?" She finally asked quietly, looking back at the road just as the light turned green so she could press on the gas again.

"We were looking at the body. You said something, a comment about... I don't really know what, I think I'd tuned you out a little by then."

_He would_. "Flattering." She quipped dryly.

"I don't remember anything after that." He continued, ignoring her. "So, what did happen?"

She took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. "I'm not entirely sure. You walked away, as you are want to do." She paused to steer the car around a corner. "I went looking for you after a while." Her right shoulder lifted a little in a shrug. "I expected to find you standing over some piece of evidence or giving some insight only you would understand but..." Suddenly, her throat grew tight, strangling the casual tone she'd been trying to feign. She drew in on herself a little, protectively.

"But what, Lisbon?" Jane murmured, once again watching her.

She swallowed twice before she could speak. "I found you lying face up in a pond. You weren't breathing." Her voice cracked a little and she cleared her throat roughly. "It was the killer that had tried to drown you. You shouldn't have gone off on your own. You're lucky to be alive." Trying desperately not to show him how much that moment had scared her, her tone turned scolding.

He only nodded thoughtfully, as though it fit with what he'd been thinking. "So, I died? No wonder my memory is spotty." He mused aloud, trying to make light of it.

She hated that flippant tone. Like that moment hadn't been one of the worst of her life. Uncomfortable, she gave him a look. "The EMT's managed to resuscitate you and then they took you to the hospital."

"I assume you came with, to make sure I was okay?" He asked.

A nod confirmed his suspicion. "I followed the ambulance to the hospital and got in to see you." She shook her head, looking out her side window at the passing businesses furtively, even more ill at ease and a little embarrassed. It flashed through her mind's eye like it was happening all over again. Even now, she could clearly see his shrewd face, smiling in a slightly confused way, asking her if they were sleeping together. "I should have talked to the doctor first."

"Why? Was I naked?" He grinned cheekily at her.

She blushed a little, gave him a withering look and turned another corner. Finally on the ramp for the highway, she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. There was nothing for it. She'd just have to say it. "You... you didn't know who I was."

He blinked, smile slipping. "What?"

Lisbon couldn't meet his eyes. Whether that was due to her own memory or to hide the small hurt flashing through her because of the lack of his, she didn't quite know. She had no right to feel that way. He'd lost his memory due to injury and trauma.

It was pointless to be hurt that he'd forgotten her.

"You lost your memory. Of quite a few years. Back to when you were a conman, even before you were a fake psychic. You- you didn't remember me, or the team... Red John." She hesitated, but he deserved the truth, from her at least. "Or even your family."

A disquiet settled between them.

Struggling to breath normally, she let it, giving him a chance to absorb what she'd said. Hell, she needed the time to. She pulled off the highway methodically, not even having to think anymore about where she was going. Her limbs were doing the work for her. Palm and oak trees along the street passed by, buildings still casting pale shadows on the streets this early. Her eyes slid briefly to the sky, which was just overcast enough to take the burning heat out of the suns rays. It really was a beautiful day. Her thoughts slipped to their destination, to the family that awaited them.

What a horribly beautiful day it was.

Only the hum of the engine punctuated the silence as they moved out of the shabby, business area of the subdivision and on into a slightly nicer neighborhood. The quiet itself seemed like it would last forever, consuming several blocks of residential road as she drove them to the address Cho had given her.

Finally, he broke it. "Well, that must have been fun."

She'd never heard him use so much sarcasm before and one of her eyebrows rose unconsciously at him.

He smiled at her understandingly. "How bad was it?"

Chuckle bubbling out of her in response, she suddenly spotted a police car up ahead and turned the car to park at the curb behind it in front of an unassuming pink house. "You were a jerk." She shut the SUV off, took the keys out of the ignition and smirked at him. "Not that that was so unusual."

His lips lifted to mirror hers, eyes crinkling just a little in true mirth.

It stung a little to see that, thinking about how close she had come to never seeing it again. To losing her best friend. And he was.

They climbed out of the car simultaneously, but he waited for her to come around off the street before speaking again. "So, you met the 'old' me." He commented thoughtfully, raising his voice so she could hear him in the wind that had started to pick up. His sharp look her way spoke volumes. "Just how much apologizing _do_ I have to do at work?"

She laughed and scoffed at him at the same time, avoiding his searching gaze. "Not too much. The department was relatively sparred- the team and I pretty much covered for you." Stowing her keys in her pocket, she also drew out her note pad from her pocket to double-check the address, ignoring his raised eyebrows.

"What did I do?" Suddenly, his fingers brushed the crook of her arm gently.

She stared back at him. Then realized what she was doing and pointedly switched her eyes down to the cracking cement beneath her shoes. _You knew it was coming,_ she scolded herself. _Just tell him_. Her shoulders lifted in an embarrassed shrug. "You- conned some people... acted like a jerk to your friends. Had a 'fling' with a woman named _Tah_-mara, and then stole a bunch of money from evidence. You know, par for the course." Her discomfort was almost palpable in the air but she tried to hide the whole truth about how much that entire encounter had affected her.

His eyes though, at the edge of her vision, showed his concern. They'd gone slightly soft, sparkling over his frown. "In other words, I acted like a complete ass to you and everyone else and committed a felony." He grinned suddenly. "At least it's nice to know you would shrug off a felony for me, Lisbon. That's really sweet."

She gave him a dry, exasperated look.

"Well, at least I didn't do anything too stupid, right? Like go on TV again?"

Her heart clenched painfully, but it was the customary ache that accompanied any mention of Red John and Jane's supposed stupidity. So, she simply shook her head to assure him and nodded at the house, desperate for a conversation change. "This is it. Joanna Lister's brother is her next of kin. He lives here with his two kids."

"Lisbon?"

She looked back at him. He was standing behind her, expression unreadable. "What?" She didn't want to know... but she did.

"You're sure?"

Relief tugged at her insides. Without him having to say it, she knew what he was talking about them, not really what happened any more. That was something she could handle. "Yeah, I'm sure. We're good." She gestured to the house. "Now come on. The local detectives will have already made the notification, we need to get in there."

He came, though for a moment there he wore such a vulnerable expression, she might as well have been followed by a sad puppy.

She took a deep breath. Today was shaping up to be a really bad day, but at least there was no way it could possibly be worse than yesterday.

Right?


End file.
